


Alcohol & Nightmares

by Megane



Category: The Wolf Among Us
Genre: Bruised and Injured, Down But Not Out, Drinking, Lucid Dreaming, Nightmares, Pain, Reality Bending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-01
Updated: 2015-08-01
Packaged: 2018-04-13 08:45:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4515432
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Megane/pseuds/Megane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bigby's not feeling too well after his run-in with the Dums and Bloody Mary. He's home and tries to drink away the pain. Keyword: tries.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Alcohol & Nightmares

Bigby collapsed on his couch, a beer clenched tight in his hand. Colin had already gone to sleep. He was more than likely taking up space on Bigby's shitty $40 mattress. The sheriff didn't mind. He just wanted to drink away the pain. The doctor told him to be careful, to take it easy for a while. Bigby knew that wouldn't happen, not with everything that was going down.

He was so close to getting his answers – him and Snow! Crane was right there in their hands and then… Bigby sighed loudly. His grip lessened on the can, and he felt some wet droplets on the pads of his fingers. He grunted in displeasure and popped the beer tab. He took a long drag and leaned back against the couch. The alcohol thrummed through his system, mixing not unpleasantly with the lingering medication. He knew that this would be a stupid way to die, but for a moment, he contemplates it wouldn't be half bad.

Bigby lowers the beer to his leg and scratches his face, glancing around his apartment. Everything seemed to be in proper order, except… the mirror laying face down. He squinted at the mirror as he tried to remember the reason for its positioning.

_Examining wounds – touching over face.  
Hands shaking knock down the mirror._

_Frustrated steps to the store …_

Ah. Bigby remembered.

He sighed and stood up, pulling the mirror up and letting it rest against the wall again. It was supposed to be a full body mirror, but set on the floor like this, the mirror came up to Bigby's chest. He stared at the cracks that spidered across the mirror face. He shook his head and went to sit down.

Until a really bad feeling crawled down his spine.

Bigby turned around, investigating the bad feelings. His eyes widened as the room was awash with red light. A slim arm creeped out and plucked up a sizable chunk of glass.

          "Now, now. That's no good."

Bloody Mary pulled herself out of the fractured glass. Her eyes, wide and bleeding, focused on Bigby. Her face had cuts, and her clothes were torn from where she crossed through the mirror.

          "Didn't your _mother_ ever tell you…?" She crushed her fingers around the glass and blew it towards Bigby.

The sheriff shrank back from the dust as it hit his skin. It burned and itched to some maddening levels. Bigby scratched at his right arm, but contact made his fingers burn as well. He peered up at Mary who smiled at him cruelly. It was just as he suspected. Somehow, this was _silver_.

Mary closed the gap between them, appearing in front of him in a blink. She reached out and grabbed his throat. His skin burned at the contact. She still had remnants of silver glass on her skin. Bigby dropped the beer on the ground as he gripped Mary's wrist.

          "That's seven years of bad luck, Wolfy." Her smile widened as she held him tighter. "And I'm an early collector."

Bigby jolted suddenly at the pain in his chest. He blinked open his eyes and brought a hand to his chest. He lowered his hand down, realising that one of his wounds had come open. It wasn't painful, but it did sting quite a bit. He roused himself and stood up. He paused when he stepped in a wet spot on his area rug. He took a step back and looked up towards the broken mirror.

He reached up a hand and rubbed his face, trying to fight off the sleep that fogged his mind. He pushed it out of his mind, not wanting to feed into the paranoia. But he would be back after tending to his injury and he'd examine the mirror. It wouldn't take long, and his eyes were pretty sharp.

Nothing much had changed; everything was essentially the same as before he fell into his alcohol induced sleep. The only thing different, something he would surely catch, was that a large piece of glass had been replaced inside the mirror.


End file.
